Chapter 279: At a Breakneck Pace
The section of the Kingsroad within the Gift, stretching dozens of miles north from the detour all the way to Castle Black, had been renovated and packed firm long ago. It was wide, straight, and regularly patrolled for maintenance; even continuous snowfall had failed to bury it. The dark, frozen road surface stood out starkly against the vast, white wilderness, looking as if some god had drawn a bold black line across the earth leading straight to the Wall.
"The travel time between Castle Black and Queenscrown has been successfully cut from a full day to little more than half a day. In the foreseeable future, we will continue renovating the route south of Queenscrown," Egger explained as he rode alongside Robb and Jon. Braving the biting wind, he laid out his infrastructure plans to the Warden of the North. "Once the north-south artery within the Gift is fully connected, I plan to repair the east-west routes that hug the Wall and link the nineteen strongholds. This will create a high-quality 'T-shaped' transportation backbone for the Gift."
Arya chimed in with a hint of dissatisfaction, "Are you only fixing the roads in the Gift? The road from Winterfell to the Gift isn't much better, and they have the nerve to call it the Kingsroad."
Robb turned to look at his sister, who was wobbling in her saddle against the gale, and shook his head. "Don't interrupt when the lords are talking, little sister. The wind is too strong out here; go back to the carriage."
"I don't want to! I'm not cold, and listening to Master's grand talk is much more interesting!"
...
Grand talk? To this girl, his ambitious and long-term construction plans were just bragging? Arya truly had no filter. Egger almost reached back to scratch the back of his head in embarrassment, but he suppressed the urge and maintained a straight face, nodding with a smile. "If Lord Stark permits, there is no reason we couldn't renovate the Wolfswood section of the Kingsroad within the North. The road conditions there are already better than they were in the Gift, so widening and leveling it wouldn't be a massive undertaking. If done well, should the Wall's defenses ever be in peril, the speed at which Northern armies can reinforce us would increase significantly."
Robb's lips twitched as if he wanted to say, 'I haven't agreed to let the Gift settlement plan continue yet,' but the sights he had seen at Queenscrown had greatly improved his impression of this plan to settle and rule the wildlings. After a moment of thought, he simply nodded, signaling Egger to continue his grand talk.
"Furthermore, I have a new concept. Originally, to prevent the settled wildlings from harming the North, the 'New Gift-dwellers' were not distributed evenly across the territory. Instead, they were concentrated within a large triangle formed by the Wall, the Shadow Tower, Eastwatch, and Queenscrown, leaving a vast uninhabited buffer zone between them and the North," Egger continued, licking his dry lips. "Once this T-shaped artery is complete, I intend to connect Queenscrown directly to the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch. Thus, with a 'T' and a 'V' combined, ninety-nine percent of the population in the Gift will be covered by this triangular road network. On this foundation, I hope to establish a simple system of public transportation."
"Public transportation?" Robb had never heard those words combined before.
"When the wildlings passed through the Wall, all horses and cattle—aside from meat poultry—were confiscated by the Night's Watch. While this gave the Wall's garrison an unprecedented abundance of animals, it left the New Gift-dwellers in a predicament with no livestock of their own. When they come to Queenscrown to buy grain, they have to rely on their legs and handcarts, making a trip for food take several days," Egger said. "I hope that once the roads are ready, we can dispatch wagons on a regular schedule from Queenscrown to the Shadow Tower and Eastwatch along fixed routes. We would allow any resident of the Gift to catch a ride, increasing the efficiency of our livestock. It serves the people and prevents Castle Black from feeding a bunch of horses and oxen that are just standing idle."
"It sounds a bit idealistic," Robb said with an amused smile. "With tens of thousands of people and only a few wagons, you'll either work the horses to death or snap the axles."
"Naturally, we would control the number of passengers. The method is simple: charge a fee for boarding. This would also help recover currency and control the wealth of the New Gift-dwellers. The Gift is a unique case—a miniature society where the population is concentrated. All ideas can be boldly tested here; if something goes wrong, it can be halted quickly without serious consequences or long-term impacts."
"Public transportation!" Arya shouted excitedly. "Can we get a wagon to go back and forth between Queenscrown and Winterfell? If I get bored at home, I can just catch a ride to the Gift to play."
"Do you have any idea how far it is from Winterfell to Queenscrown!" Robb shot a look at Arya. "Furthermore, I must remind you, dear sister—right now, I am your guardian. I love you, and because I do, I cannot indulge your every whim. Without my company or permission, you are never to leave the castle at will, I don't care who you are looking for or what you are doing! If you do it again, don't blame me if I start guarding you like a prisoner, just as Mother did!"
The girl understood that she couldn't argue against such a matter of principle. She pouted and muttered under her breath, "I know."
...
Though the weather was foul, there was one thing to be thankful for: it wasn't snowing overhead, and the fierce wind wasn't blowing from the north. While strong, it wasn't enough to prevent them from speaking. The party of over a hundred continued north along the road, chatting to keep their spirits up while maintaining a steady pace.
At noon, they found a sheltered spot to rest. Not long after they finished lunch and resumed their journey, a black speck appeared on the grey northern horizon. The figure soon emerged from the distant mist, riding toward the group, and quickly closed to a distance where he was recognizable—a man in black.
As he drew closer, Jon was the first to recognize him. "Grenn!"
Robb, who hadn't met many brothers of the Watch, asked curiously, "Who is Grenn?"
"A ranger brother and a good friend... but why is he out here?"
The rider was on a pony that was clearly not a military mount, likely captured from the wildlings, yet he was moving at a considerable speed. Within minutes, he reached the group and recognized his friend. "Jon!" Then, turning his head, his face lit up with relief. "Lord Egger!"
"Long time no see, Grenn. This is the Warden of the North, Lord Robb Stark," Egger said, briefly introducing the man beside him before quickly asking: "Has something happened at Castle Black? Why have you come all this way?"
"Castle Black—" Grenn had thought he'd have to ride until midnight to reach Queenscrown, not expecting to run into the people he was looking for less than ten miles out. As his surprise faded, he glanced uneasily at Robb—Jon's legendary half-brother, a man his own age who had already inherited the entire North. He wasn't sure if he should speak in front of him. After a moment's hesitation, he pulled a folded slip of paper from his blacks and handed it to Egger. "Sam... he told me to bring this to you."
Egger took the note with a frown and opened it.
Sam's handwriting was familiar and clear. The content was straightforward; Egger understood every word and every piece of information, yet he had no idea what Sam meant by sending this to him now.
This was no guessing game; if the meaning wasn't clear, it was because he was missing a key piece of information. A sense of foreboding rose in his chest. Egger apologized to Robb and led Grenn to the side of the road, a few meters away, to ask for the specifics.
"Ser Denys Mallister and Lord Cotter Pyke have both withdrawn from the election! They've thrown their support to Lord Yohn Royce. By the time I managed to sneak out of Castle Black on this old pony, he had already secured over five hundred votes!"
"What?!"
...
One second later, Egger understood the utility of the note Sam had written; ten seconds later, he decided on his course of action. Half a minute later, he walked back to his distinguished guest and apologized. "Lord Stark, I am truly sorry. An emergency has arisen at Castle Black. Please forgive me, I cannot accompany you further; I must go on ahead!"
"Master, Master! I'm coming with you!"
"You wouldn't dare," Robb glared at Arya, then turned and nodded to Egger. "Go on then, if it's urgent. We can almost see the Wall from here, and the road is wide enough that we won't get lost."
It was a good thing the road was wide. Egger galloped at full speed along the northernmost stretch of the Kingsroad he had ordered to be renovated, thanking his past self for the decision.
Renovating the Kingsroad from Castle Black southward had cut the travel time from Queenscrown to the Wall by at least two hours... and now, he hoped those two hours would be enough for him to save the situation.
...
Without sparing the horse, Egger covered the final few miles in a heartbeat, appearing in the sight of the sentries at Castle Black's gate.
"Lord Egger has returned!"
The gates swung open.
Even if he had used schemes to secure his position, and even if the Logistics Department didn't have many brothers, and his influence was not as high as the other "Chief" officers... at the very least, no one disputed Egger's status as a high-ranking member of the Night's Watch. Even his enemies did not question that fact.
He encountered no resistance as he rode smoothly into the courtyard of Castle Black, which hadn't changed a bit in the two months he'd been gone. He vaulted off his horse, handed the reins to a subordinate, and threw off his heavy windbreaker onto the saddle in one fluid motion. Standing in the center of the courtyard, Egger looked around and shouted his command:
"Go to the towers and call everyone! Tell every brother not on duty to come to the Great Hall! I have something to say!"
With that, he pulled off his gloves, straightened his collar, rolled up his sleeves, and strode toward the site of the election.
He had become an expert at manipulating people, but this matter could not be settled with mere silver-tongued persuasion. This time, what he came to do was to tear down the opposition, to deliver a public slap to the face, and to unleash a verbal storm. This was his final gamble; success or failure rested on this single move.
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